I knew already that I could make a few dollars as there were several old metal tipped pens, several ink wells (the ink was all dried by now of course.... and roller blotters that were used more than a hundred years ago. Many people collected this sort of thing so I knew I could sell them easily. The strange thing was that none of them appeared to have been nibbled on by mice. Mice usually make nests of old papers in places where they won't be disturbed and inside this desk, inside a secret room. I was pumping my hips in time to his thumb now, rising to meet each stroke, thrusting at the last moment and gasping as he buried it up to the webbing and the thicker meat below the thumb drove into my opening and spread me wide. “Please,” I gasped, my breath ragged and strained. “Please finish me with your cock. I want to feel you come inside me.” And with that the thumb stopped. Well, actually it paused. Right at the bottom of the stroke. I had thrust upwards and my bottom dropped back onto. More

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